Durarara!: The Runner
by Ronin201
Summary: A young guitarist, unable to find a record deal, is introduced to the world of smuggling in Ikebukuro and finds a purpose in the less-than-legal-business and Ikebukuro's shadier side. OcxOc and placed before the main events of the story (i.e. Mikado's arrival) the owners of Durarara!, objects and OCs within retain their rights
1. Prologue: A Rebel Without a Home

**_A/N: just as a head's up, I apologize in advance for any screw-ups regarding honorifics. Even after doing some research, the darn things still do not cease to confuse me at times. Also, thanks to Nilesdaughter for the cover ^^_**

_Prologue: The Rebel Without a Home_

"I'll give you plenty of reasons why you won't be able to make a decent living as a guitarist!" Shinjuo Itogara bellowed.

Ryu Itogara didn't utter a word or move a muscle. He just stared back at his angry father. This scenario was nothing new, just another day at the office almost. His dad had hounded him about his want to be a musician for what, three years? He'd always shrugged it off and kept up his drive. His Mom had acted as a sort of neutral party, wanting to support her son but always having to fall in line with her husband's way of running things.

He'd thought this had been over, that his dad would stop bringing it up. He'd even gone so far as to get a job at a sushi place busing tables, something that had nothing to do with being a rock musician. But apparently keeping the playing of his Gibson Flying V relegated to a hobby and occasional job (playing for people at the restaurant or other small venues) wasn't enough. Apparently it, like the wolf's tail that sat just above the nape of his neck or the tribal tattoo on his left arm, still meant rebellion, and still gave a reason for confrontation.

"You should at least consider what your father has to say, he just wants you to be a good person." She said in a voice that was far gentler than his dad's. The eighteen year-old looked at her.

"I should consider something I already know I don't want to do?" He asked, turning his head towards the woman. She nodded, but only slightly.

"No son of mine is going to make his living like this. You have a perfect opportunity to become a respectable businessman. Hell I'd be even prouder if you used your track skills to become an athlete. But this?!" the head of the household went on.

"And why should I do what I don't want to? Because Itogara Shinjuo's too afraid of his son being anything other than a perfect little daddy's boy?" the teen sneered.

The second his father seemed hesitant, Ryu decided he'd had enough. He didn't want anyone to try to dictate his choices anymore. He took a step towards the man and jabbed his chest with a finger.

"And when I'm making more money doing what I love than your ass is in two lifetimes, when I've got girls lining up just for a peck on the cheek, you know what's not gonna happen? You getting a single ounce of the share. Yuji-san? Kara-san? I'll make sure if they need help their big brother does what's he's supposed to, but you won't exist to me. Not even if you were two fucking inches in front of me." He snarled, trying not to end the declaration with a swing.

Shinjuo didn't respond, and Ryu's mother had backed up a step or two. Ryu let the words sink in before doing anything else, keeping his face firm and gripping tightly to his nerve, lest it slip away and his father seize the upper hand. Concluding the older man wasn't going to respond, the ponytailed young man turned to leave, but a hand reached out and seized his shoulder.

"Don't you dare walk away from me like that!" the older man roared. Ryu reacted immediately.

It was a disturbing moment for the two parents when their first son, the one they thought would be their pride, took a swing at his own father. Ryu's fist collided with the right side of the businessman's face, the force sending Shinjuo stumbling to the left. His son again turned and walked off with haste, ascending the steps to his room. When he closed the door, he locked it and started collecting his things…

Ryu stopped and listened again. He was still expecting police sirens to start blaring at some time sooner or later. Guess the old bastard had a little bit of heart after all the teen mused. He set the duffle bag aside and looked at perhaps the most valuable thing he owned: his guitar. He'd worked harder than anything in his life to get his hands on the black and white instrument, and he'd put even more effort into getting use out of it. He wrapped one hand around the neck and part of him felt the need to play it one last time to piss off his dad…

The other part of the rebellious youth wanted to beat the businessman over the head with it…

Without choosing he let go and hid the instrument inside its case and slung it over his shoulders like a rifle. The young man opened the door, leaving behind a good amount of his worldly possessions outside of what was important. The house was still quiet as he walked down the stairs. Ryu began to wonder if his family had gone out to try and defuse the situation, but that thought was discarded when he found his two younger siblings, Kara and Yuji, sitting on the couch in wait. Kara wasted no time in running up to her much older brother.

"Oniisan, where are you going?" the raven-haired girl asked. The soon to be vagabond decided to make things easy to understand for the two ten-year-olds.

"Oniisan has to go away for a while." He replied softly, taking a knee.

"Go away to where? Is Otousan mad at you?" His little brother chimed in. the ponytailed one sighed and nodded.

"Yes, he doesn't like what I want to do, so I've decided I have to not talk to him for a while, and try to do what I want."

"But Oniisan, what about us?" the younger of the two Itogara boys protested.

They got him there. He loved his two siblings and felt like he bore most of the responsibility when it came to them. If he was leaving his parents he was leaving them too, and though it pained him he couldn't bring himself to stay just for their sake.

"You take care of one another, and grow up to be people Oniisan would be proud of. Hopefully I'll even get to see you at that stage." He told them both. They only continued to give him innocent stares.

"I love you both." He added bringing them both close in embrace.

"We love you too Oniisan." They both replied in near unison.

He let them both go and stood up, walking towards the kitchen to help himself to a few things in the fridge, packing them the best he could and stuffing them in his bag. The young man had toyed with the idea of taking a few of his mom's dishes to add a little money to what he had in his bank account (something he'd gone to great lengths to keep from his father's grip), but he'd already gotten a break with avoiding arrest for hitting his dad. No need to push it…

And with that Ryu stepped out the door to mount his ageing Yamaha and glanced back. Sure enough his younger brother and sister watched from the window. Another sting of guilt hit him hard, but he swallowed it and instead gave them both a thumbs up. Yuji returned the gesture and they both watched as he saddled up and left, motorcycle engine making its mechanical buzz all the while. Ryu pulled down the helmet's visor before he let any tears fall.


	2. C1: It's a Long Way to the Top

**_A/N: Since I tend to write more military-oriented stuff, perhaps the biggest thing I can always use help with is making the story not feel that way (and advice on cultural things doesn't hurt either ^^). _**

_C__hp. 1: It's A Long Way to the Top…_

_Approximately One Year Later_

Ryu Itogara, age nineteen, halted the Yamaha behind the sedan and glanced up at the stoplight. His left foot thumped against the pavement at machine gun speed. Come on, just let me get back to the shop so I can clock out he thought. He looked at the light again as it remained in its current state. It almost felt like he was being teased by the thing, as if it was keeping him from tonight's events but not pressing him to the point of being late.

Really it was maybe two, three, minutes of waiting until the light turned green. He wrapped his hands around the motorcycle's handlebars again and revved the engine to give himself some momentum. Two lights down he made a right and pulled the bike in front of Red Gate Sushi. The young man removed his helmet and shook his head to let his wolf's tail fall back into place. Ryu grabbed the empty basket off the back of the bike and walked inside, letting out a breath.

"I'm back Urasaki-Buchou." He called over the counter of the sushi bar.

"That was your last delivery, Itogara-san?" A bony, middle-aged woman replied from the kitchen.

"Yep, I'm going home now!" He declared, heading back towards the employee locker room.

The young man freed himself from his employee polo shirt and biker jacket, hanging them inside the storage space along with his helmet. He turned in his handheld credit card machine and donned his standard garb of jeans and a black t-shirt, this particular one bearing the logo of the band Dokken.

He left his day job behind to head for his small apartment. The sushi delivery gig was just a thing to give him food and shelter, which it barely covered. The real career he was going for was the same: professional guitarist. He'd met with a few others here in Southern Kita and together they'd formed "Yuurei", a band dedicated to reviving the kind of metal that had been popular in the 80s. From his small apartment it was south towards the district of Ikebukuro.

Ryu had only rarely ventured this far south for a few deliveries. It was uncharted territory outside the rather small bubble of Tokyo he had known this past year. He'd heard the stories, but tended to pass them off as urban myths. A man who could rip street lights from the ground and hurl them with ease, a motorcycle rider who was apparently a vigilante with supernatural powers, a group of people who apparently used manga as a guide to torture; stuff like that. But according to Kouta, one of his bandmates, their venue for tonight lay here, so into the district he would go. He stuck to the freeway that was elevated to pass over the lower buildings as much as he could. He descended onto the district's streets as the sun was well below the skyscraper horizon. At a stop he glanced at his watch. It was still two hours until the performance, but before he could embrace the excitement of playing the guitar on his back, they had to make sure logistical things were in place. Sound…lights…

A loud cry stopped his thoughts. He looked up and around as it faded. The sound had been animalistic, almost like a horse but with a ghostly overtone. He heard it again and followed the sound, which was much closer now. A jet-black motorcycle came flashing by. It's rider was dressed the same way, with the exception of a lemon-yellow helmet that distinguished where her (or at least that's what he could fathom from the brief view) head was. It mesmerized him for a brief moment or two as the machine went on, a third neigh trailing far in its wake.

"What in the h-"

The car behind him gave the young man a blast of its horn. He jumped and looked back at the Toyota before making an apologetic gesture and moving on. The streets had a very metropolitan feel to it, with neon signs shedding light onto the street, advertising everything from movies to coffee to the pleasures of nightlife. His destination was a small bar, coined "Shuten-doji's Lair". The young man brought his two-wheeled transport to a halt among a few other motorcycles and walked down the alley to the rear entrance. A quick knock opened the door, and a member of the establishment's staff let him in.

"Welcome to the party Itogara-san." Ryu's good friend and drummer, Kouta Nakumura, greeted with a slap on the back.

"Let's hope it is one." He smiled back.

The two walked down a narrow hall to their band's green room, where the three other members were planning the night's sequence of events with the assistance of a six-pack of Sapporo. The lead guitarist set his Flying V down near a table and plopped down onto a couch.

"You're a little late man, what happened?" lead singer Asou Shibatori asked, glancing up from their setlist. Ryu let out a breath and sat down.

"You really wanna, know? Cause you'll probably ask me if I'm already drunk." He responded.

"What, you run across that crazy bar tender this place supposedly has?" his long-haired friend asked. The wolf-tailed one of the group shook his head.

"That motorcyclist with the bright yellow helmet…What's her name again?" He divulged. The 19 year-old rubbed his chin in thought.

"You're telling me, Itogara-san, that you saw the Black Rider?" the bespectacled drummer laughed, sitting down next to him. Ryu tilted his head at him.

"What, isn't she just a vigilante or something?"

"Nah, man, she's a death omen from what I've heard. Did you hear the horse sounds?" Takeshi, the bass player, spoke up. The two looked at him.

"Death omen?" Ryu asked with an unimpressed expression on his mug.

"Yeah, I heard whenever she gets seen, bad things happen." The college student with dyed-blonde hair explained.

"Maybe you're gonna get shot here in 'Bukuro." The rhythm guitarist, Kai Hiroji, said with a ghostly "woooo". Ryu took one of the cans but didn't open it.

"Maybe it means I'll be forced to find a different line of work." He remarked.

"Like the SDF?" Kouta beamed.

"Oh please, I could hear my old man now…" Ryu scoffed. He cleared his throat and scowled.

"I told you that eventually you'd see the need to find a real job!" Itogara huffed, pretending to be much older. They shared a round of laughs before returning to more pressing matters.

"So what are we going to start out with? _The Minamoto Rising_? _Forty-Seven Blades_? _Through the Kamikaze_?" Ryu asked. Asou handed him the piece of paper and ingested a gulp of his beer.

"Probably _Through the Kamikaze_, it's a good, fast song to start out with." The singer replied. Ryu nodded and looked at their songs again.

"We'll probably follow that order, and make sure the few ones that tend to bleed into one-another are subsequent." The group's lead confirmed.

There was nothing remarkable about the preparations, they only had to make sure things were in place and that the electronics and equipment wouldn't backfire on them and cause injuries. The crowd was mixed between younger folk and older, some who they had good reason to believe were dedicated fans and others who had come to drink or hear the style of music.

That night's show was another example of why Ryu loved the music industry. He soared on the rush he got from the loud noises, the feeling of his fingers dance along the guitar's neck, the changing speeds of strumming. The adrenaline was his drug, and he drank in every milliliter of it. It made him feel free, and it didn't have any aspect that could bring him down. But, the night's performance had one downside, one in the form of three men at the bar. Throughout the night he'd been heard, demanding slower and older rock music. He'd even apparently complained to several staff, which all simply nodded and then distracted him. Even after the set was done and Yuurei had handed out its share of entertainment, he continued to throw his tantrum. No one gave him attention though, busying themselves with cleaning and packing. But it

"Where the fuck were the ballads?!" the middle-aged man cried out again for the n-tenth time. Now it was beginning to draw attention, solely because it had dragged on in bursts for hours. Ryu, long freed from the obligation to play and pack, decided to take it upon himself.

"Hey, hey, we can't cater to everyone's needs." He explained, used to the idea of people who didn't like their music. The man, apparently an office worker, would have none of it.

"Bullshit! Whenever I come here I get ballads until I pass out!" He objected. A few of his cohorts agreed.

"Didn't know this was your bar." Ryu smirked.

"You mocking me, kid?" he breathed.

"Not at all, but what about the other people that were here? They enjoyed it." He pointed out. The balding male mulled over that a minute, but his face suggested it was his way or the high way.

"I'm sorry you didn't like it, maybe next time we come you can just stay home." Ryu suggested, mixing his sincerity with sarcasm. The guy was still unaware he was being mocked.

"But there's no beer there…you trying to say I'm a drunk, you asshole?!" he roared. Ryu said nothing, and reinforcements arrived. A guard grabbed the man and hauled him away from the bar.

"Sorry I didn't come sooner." He apologized to the guitarist. Ryu shook his head.

"It's okay; I was having a little too much fun." He replied. He actually felt a little guilty, but as long as he wasn't getting in trouble, he was okay. The teen looked at the rabble-rouser as he struggled to be let go. His eyes locked onto Ryu's

"This isn't over you asshole, I want my ballads and I'm gonna get em!" he barked with slurred, pragmatic speech. Ryu shrugged and went back to the stage.

"Nice one." Takeshi remarked.

"Eh, he's a drunk. They're good for a laugh, but only because it makes you feel better than them." He shrugged.

"Forget it and let's have a drink. We've earned our keep tonight." Ryu's lanky friend said, throwing an arm around his shoulders. Ryu beamed back at the drummer.

They did just that. Tonight felt like one step closer to victory, to places like Budokan and Los Angeles in California. By the time they were done Ryu was decidedly intoxicated. He decided to leave and use the bathroom, but in his less-than-sharp mental state. He ended up stumbling into the alleyway he'd entered, and he wasn't alone…

Daisuke Sabunari felt the young woman tighten her grip on his arm, trying to bring it just a bit closer to her chest. Quite impatient aren't we he thought, hiding his smile behind a seemingly uninterested face. The action only increased her determination.

"Dai-kun, please pay more attention to me." His "escort" pleaded in a very lighthearted tone. His eyes smoothly went towards her.

"But I want to save all the attention-giving for when we get to my home, when I can make it a night you'll never forget." The man said, running a hand through her oil-colored hair. She giggled as he kissed her forehead.

"Now be patient and Dai-kun will give you what you want." He assured. She nodded quickly and tugged for him to keep moving.

Daisuke Sabunari liked an enthusiastic kind of woman. Sadly his favorite girl, Mitsuki, was busy tonight, but her replacement, Izumi, seemed to be capable of fitting her place. His was probably dragging himself into an addiction to sex, he thought for a moment, but he didn't care. He didn't acknowledge any higher power capable of damning him to eternal suffering.

As the duo passed a bar, he heard a loud clattering. Daisuke stopped and listened as some sort of altercation broke out. He waited to see if it would go tumbling into the street, but it stayed put. He began to take his fun for the night past, throwing a curious glance into the dark, damp passageway. What he saw did manage to rivet his attention: two men, both apparently enjoying a night on the town after their work (as evidenced by their business attire) ganging up on a much younger man with a short ponytail. A fourth man lay on the side, a trashcan lid near his injured head.

"Punk kid! We'll teach you to fuck with us!" One of the men shouted as he delivered a blow with one of his shoes. The young man, already on the ground, curled into a tighter fetal position.

Daisuke sighed. Despite the fact he was supposed to be a pretty cold-blooded sonuvabitch, especially here in Ikebukuro, He couldn't help but still have a heart. The brown-haired man looked towards the younger woman, who seemed to be tugging for them to move on.

"I promise, this will only take a second." He winked. She nodded apprehensively and put her hands behind her back as her client walked forward.

The thirty-two year old man reached under his windbreaker and cleared his throat as he revealed a SiG Sauer P226. The men stopped attacking their downed opponent and looked towards the newcomer. Even in their drunken and injured stupor, they could still recognize a firearm when they saw one.

"I suggest you leave him alone, or else I'll get to make sure my marksmanship skills are still refined." He said, speaking very calmly.

The group of men needed no further warning. They ran, leaving the ponytailed kid (he looked about 18 to Daisuke) to lie on the cold pavement in pain. The older man laughed and holstered the weapon. There was something…satisfying about letting people know you had power over them. He made his reveling in that fact quick before kneeling down next to the youth.

"Hey, are you okay?" he asked.

Ryu opened his eyes and looked up at the stranger. The older man had short chestnut hair that was held in a slightly slicked-back fashion with gel and a clean-shaven face.

"Drunk bastards ambushed me." He coughed.

Daisuke made an acknowledging grunt and looked him over. The kid was skinny, but apparently he'd gotten one of them, the guy with the lid near his head. A taxi was tempting, but with the kid this drunk he wasn't fit to be anywhere outside. He still felt sympathy too…He'd been like this once. Young, stupid, and drunk.

"Tell you what kid, I'm feeling generous, so I'll let you sleep it off at my place." He proposed. Ryu gave him a look.

"Why should I trust you?" he said. Okay, so the young man wasn't all that stupid.

"Because I just saved your ass, and I'm willing to bet you're gonna get in more trouble if you drive or walk home, which I doubt is anywhere near here." The brunette smirked. The teen's gaze shifted towards the bar's door.

"My stuff…" he protested.

"What stuff?" the Ikebukuro native replied.

"Guitar…wallet…keys…" the guy laying on the ground said.

Daisuke sighed and stood up. As he approached the entrance, the metal door came open and a bespectacled young man stuck his head out. Daisuke flinched.

"Hey, you know this guy?" Daisuke asked, jerking a thumb at Ryu as Izumi helped him up.

"What happened?" Kouta asked with a bit of a slurred voice.

"He got in a fight, I'm gonna get him home but he needs his stuff. Guitar, wallet…any of that inside?" The older man asked. Kouta considered him a minute, then opened his mouth.

"I'll take his guitar and get it to him later." He promised, not too willing to trust the man. He did, however, retrieve Ryu's wallet and keys.

Daisuke nodded thankfully and went to help the youth. They dragged him out of the alleyway. Daisuke threw a glance back up and saw a shadow on the roof of the building the bar was a part of. He didn't have to guess who was enjoying himself with the scene.

The kid was a small burden to drag home. He would let out torrents of language, both coherent and not, and twice needed to use a trashcan to regurgitate the contents of his stomach. Finally though, they brought him to Daisuke's humble mezzanine apartment.

Ryu collapsed on the unknown man's couch and rolled on his stomach. The older man grabbed him a trash bucket and placed it near his mouth. The idea of some stranger puking on his floor was anything but acceptable. Daisuke sighed and rubbed his forehead before Izumi tugged at his jacket's left sleeve.

"Come on Dai-kun, I'm too horny to wait any longer." She whined. He looked at her over his shoulder and grinned.

"Okay, he should be okay for now." He assured himself.

The man swept the giggling call girl off her feet and whisked her down the hall, deciding he would find out about his sudden houseguest after he enjoyed himself.


	3. C2: Delivery Boy

**_A/N: For those wondering, yes I know the legal drinking age in Japan is 20, but you'll get a bit on an explanation for Ryu's actions within this chapter_**

_Chp. 2: Delivery Boy_

Ryu woke up that morning with the mother of all headaches and a deep gratitude that he was not working today. He didn't drink very often (it was technically illegal for him still), but the occasion had felt special. They'd raked in a little more than they usually did, and the crowd was a sign to them that their dream was close. The only downside had been the fight with the group of dissatisfied bar-goers, and he's gotten the guy who'd been complaining before his friends gotten him to the pavement. Then there was the guy who'd dragged him where he was now, and the young woman who'd accompanied him to bed (though he'd heard nothing).

"Good morning." a female voice greeted as he sat up and moaned. He looked over at the prostitute, who was busy nursing a glass of water. She was in the same attire from the prior evening.

"Morning." He groaned out of common courtesy, pressing his face against the palms of his hands and dragging them down. The girl, her hair still disheveled from tending to the older guy, sat opposite him and studied the hung-over guitarist through the clear glass.

"So, what's your name?" She asked.

"…Ryu." He replied after a yawn.

"Are you from Ikebukuro, Ryu-san?" she went on.

"No, I live in Southern Kita. I was playing at a bar here last night." He explained.

"You play music?"

"Yeah, guitar."

"It must get you a lot of cute girls." She assumed. Ryu chuckled and caught her drift.

"I'm guessing the other guy wasn't all that good?"

She shrugged indifferently.

"He was fine, but he's usually Mitsuki-san's man, since she's closer to his age. I tend to prefer guys who're younger than me." Izumi answered.

"It didn't seem that way last night." A third voice piped up. They both looked towards the hallway as the home's resident came into view, dressed in track pants and a white t-shirt. His hair was also messy from whatever passion had transpired last night. She gave him a half-grin but soon turned her attention back to the younger male.

"So how old are you?" She asked, interest in the subject coming out with her words. The brunette intervened.

"Okay, okay, the boy will decide if he'd like to meet you later. Here's a little extra for helping me with him." Daisuke said, giving her a peck on the cheek. She sent a wink Ryu's way and left with a small wad of bills.

"Sorry, Suki-chan told me she's…enthusiastically promiscuous." He apologized a few seconds after the door was closed.

"It's fine." Ryu said indifferently. Daisuke walked towards the kitchen and pulled a mug from the drawers above a coffee maker as it brewed a pot of the bitter-tasting liquid.

"Want some coffee?" He offered.

"No thanks, probably just some strong aspirin and directions back to that bar." The black-haired teen responded. Daisuke poured himself a cup and added some milk to it before saying anything else.

"Bathroom's the first right." he said, pointing down the hall.

Ryu pulled himself up from the couch and walked into the small space. After a minute of searching he found said medicine and downed two with the assistance of some water. When he returned to the living room the man was sitting on the couch. He lowered his mug and looked him over. Ryu did the same.

"So how old are you?"

"Nineteen."

"Jeez kid, not much regard for the drinking age."

"Hey if I'm allowed to fuck why can't I drink?!" He replied defensively. Daisuke only grinned in amusement.

"I'm just poking your ribs, kid. Calm down." he clarified before taking a another long slug.

"So why did you help me?" Ryu demanded.

"Because I was you once. I got drunk and got into fights, and I'd wake up hung-over and bruised."

"They just kicked me in the gut and back a bunch of times, sans a hit to the nads. Not sure if that counts as bruised" Ryu shrugged.

"Who were they anyways?" Daisuke asked.

"Some bar patrons who didn't like the music we were playing. They got thrown out and when I accidentally stumbled out into the alley saw an opportunity to get even." The teen explained. He remembered his manners.

"Thank you though, I owe you one." He bowed quickly. Daisuke casually waved a hand.

"Think nothing of it, kid." He smiled.

"So how do I get back to Shuten-Doji's Den from here?" his houseguest asked.

"You just follow the street were on for two lights, hang a left, then a right and it's on the corner near a realty office and a mini-mart." He instructed. The young man nodded thankfully and turned towards the door.

"One last thing, you said you live in Southern Kita?" Daisuke spoke up. Ryu stopped and looked at him.

"Yeah, what about it?" He replied.

"If you're willing, I have a friend who I need to get something to. I'll pay you for your troubles." The Ikebukuro man offered, raising his cup a little. Ryu mulled over the idea.

"What is it?" the young man asked. Daisuke went for the usual reason.

"Something he ordered from me. I run a pawn shop and I'm too lazy to take it to him and he's busy so he can't make time to come down here." The older man explained.

"How much?"

"3000 yen, half up front."

Ryu was definitely tempted. It wasn't a fortune, but it was extra money, and he could always use that. Even better it was just a simple delivery job…and that was his daytime job.

"Does he need it soon? I have things to get." Ryu nodded. The businessman checked his clock in the kitchen.

"It's 10 AM so just get it to him before sundown. He'll call me and you can come and get the rest of your pay." He instructed, taking another drink.

"Okay, I'll do it." The guitarist agreed.

"Good." His host smiled, standing up and disappearing into the back. It was a few minutes and a handful of sounds before he returned with a small cardboard box. Ryu took it and inspected the object.

"Here's his address, and how you'll convince him it's from me. He's one of those paranoid conspiracy nuts who thinks the Illuminati is looking to kill him, so follow that part to the letter." Daisuke added. Ryu looked at the man, who he'd found was his height, and nodded slowly.

"…Okay then." He added, almost as an afterthought.

Ryu took the package and directions and left the condo for the streets of Ikebukuro. The place felt different in the daytime, less like a place for vice and sin and more like the American city of New York. Like rumors about any place they seemed to be mostly false. He tucked the box under his left arm and checked the directions again to make sure he wasn't drifting farther from where he wanted to go.

"Ah, I see Dai-chan has you running an errand for him?" A light, airy voice asked. Ryu stopped and looked both ways before turning 180 degrees to see a short, feminine-looking man standing atop a brick tree ring.

"What does it matter to you?" Ryu asked with arched eyebrows.

"What if I'm the client?" the man replied with a sly grin. It almost sounded like he was being mocked by the thin man. Maybe this guy was drunk…

"Hahaha, nice try, but I have specific instructions, and you don't look like the paranoid type to me." The wolf-tailed one retorted.

"And what makes you say that, ne?~" The mysterious stranger said as he fluidly leapt down from the concrete piece and took a step towards the delivery boy.

"Simple, if you truly believed the Illuminati or whomever was after your life, you wouldn't be taking such a risk. That is, unless you have a death wish." Ryu smirked. The feminine guy threw his head back and laughed.

"Touché." He admitted.

"So who are you anyways?" the guitarist asked. The man stepped back and gave a theatrical bow.

"I am Orihara Izaya." He announced. He looked up at the teen, waiting for him to return the favor.

"Ryu." He simply replied, withholding his last name.

"Such ill manners." Izaya huffed, noting the lack of a bow in greeting. The other young man shook his head.

"Listen, it's been…interesting…talking with you, but I have my own matters to deal with." He said, giving a wave in farewell and turning away. He could feel Izaya watching him move on.

"I'm sure we'll meet again, Yu-chan~" the Ikebukuro resident called after him before going his own way.

The young man went on towards the bar, thankful to find his bike still there. He went to the front door and inside the establishment. With the help of a waitress he found the manager.

"Excuse me sir, I was here with the band here last night. I'm here to retrieve my things." He said. The man considered him a minute, recalling last night. It came to him and he nodded.

"One of your bandmates took you guitar and things for safekeeping." He explained.

"Which one?"

"The drummer."

Ryu nodded and left once again. He slid out his cellphone and brought up Kouta's number. It was three or so rings before the other line accepted the call.

"Mrrgh, what?" an exhausted voice grumbled.

"Oi, I'm still alive, you ain't getting my Flying V just yet." The guitarist smirked. There was a bare-bones resemblance of a laugh on the other end.

"Well it's here waiting for its owner, so whenever you want it. Where are you anyways?" Kouta asked.

"Still in Ikebukuro, some guy here bailed me out of a fight." His friend replied.

"Yeah, I kind of remember telling him I'd take you things. Well whenever you're in the area just drop by. I'm gonna be as lazy as I can today." The one with glasses said. They exchanged goodbyes and Itogara stored his device…

The drive back into Kita was quiet. Ryu was still a little hung over, so he took things carefully as he chose to deal with his little side job first. The address the package was about three blocks east of Kishi Hospital, which was the eastern edge of his employer's delivery area. Ryu stopped the bike in front of a nondescript apartment complex that rose up about five floors. He dismounted the bike and checked the room number: 342. The young man left his bike on the curb and walked towards a flight of stairs. This was the point where he began to wonder about what his temporary boss had said.

"He thinks the Illuminati are after him…" the teen repeated quietly. Who or whatever ran this universe was probably the only one that knew why.

The dark-haired young man reached the appropriate floor and walked to the far side of the U-shaped building. He knocked EXACTLY four times as the sheet of paper said and waited for an answer.

"Hello?" A voice asked quickly.

"I have your delivery, Genta-san. Two VCR tapes of_ Mobile Gundam SEED_." Ryu said, again consulting the sheet.

There was a long minute as several locks were undone. The door opened to reveal a man in a light blue polo and jeans. He looked to be a little on the unhealthy side of skinny, and his hair was unkempt. He eyed Ryu for a minute.

"You aren't Sabunari-san, but you know my real name..." He immediately observed.

"He paid me to run this to you. I assure you I'm not with the Illuminati." Ryu clarified. He couldn't help but grin when he said the last part. It didn't sit well with Genta.

"You think there existence is a joke, but they are out there and they are our doom. We must fight them." He retorted in a frustrated manner. Somebody had their drawers in a knot.

"Anyways, I thank you for getting this to me. It makes me feel…safer. He replied, looking down at the cardboard object and stroking it. His gaze went back up.

"I shall inform Sabunari-san I received the package." He assured.

The man gave Ryu a note, saying he would also use electronic means but to give the businessman that in case his signal was tracked. The younger man simply nodded and left without a word. He couldn't really find an appropriate comment for the guy. He was…he was…well, he couldn't be perfectly described at the moment. And Ryu partially doubted that he'd handed the man two tapes of a mecha anime, especially considering the package's heft. But he had abstained from seeing what he was carrying.

Ryu shook the unique experience and subsequent train of thought from his head and returned to his Yamaha. He traversed the maze of the Tokyo streets and came to a stop before his friend's small housing development. He wanted to secure his musical instrument before reporting back for the rest of his 3000 yen. Sure it was in good hands and he was looking to finish his odd job, but that piece of wood and various metals was probably the most valuable thing in his life, his bike (which gave him transport and a better shot at side-jobs) just behind it. He walked up to the small structure belonging to the lanky drummer and hit the doorbell as he fixed his wolf's tail.

"Hey Itogara-san." Nakumura yawned as he opened the door a little.

"You fall back asleep, Nakamura-san?" Ryu asked the drowsy-looking young man. Another yawn predated the response.

"Yeah, I just got up for real about 15 minutes ago. What took you?"

"I had an errand to run." Ryu apologized, keeping any details undisclosed. His fellow musician nodded and held open the door so he could follow Kouta inside. Sure enough his guitar was in its case, sitting on a living room couch.

"So who was that guy?" the teen's bandmates asked as he leaned forward a little and gently slung the piece over his right shoulder. Ryu looked up and straightened his back.

"His name is Sabunari Daisuke. He runs a pawn shop. He was going home with a call girl and decided to help me. He said he'd been like that once." The nineteen-year-old said, gathering the conclusion from what Genta and that Izaya character had addressed him as.

"Pretty nice of him to just pick you up and let you crash at his place…are you sure he didn't steal any of your stuff?" the bespectacled one asked as he slumped back into an old recliner.

"He didn't take a thing. I'm pretty sure he was too busy with the girl." Ryu shrugged. Kouta nodded in understanding.

"Well, good job on the guitar last night, you were nailing it the entire time." he added with a smile. His younger friend returned the expression.

"Thanks man, let's hope it helps get the word out about us." the lead guitar player of Yuurei added. He turned to leave, but his friend called after him.

"What's the rush? Wanna hang out and ride out my hangover?"

Ryu laughed and looked over his shoulder. It was always fun to hang out with Kouta Nakamura, but he had more pressing matters.

"Maybe another time man, I have things to do." He explained.

"Yeah, right."

Ryu stopped. Damn you Kouta Nakamura and your ability to pry he thought.

"That guy hired me to run a couple of old anime tapes to a friend of his here in Kita, he owes me the other half of 3000 yen." The teen explained. Kouta took in the details a minute.

"You sure it was anime?" He asked. Ryu sighed.

"I don't know Nakamura-san; I didn't look in the box." He replied, not wanting to talk about it until he got some answers himself.

"For all you know, you just ran some drugs." He pointed out.

"Nah, the box was too heavy."

"Guns?"

"Didn't sound like anything metal."

"porn?"

"That wouldn't surprise me. His "friend" was like one of those creepy guys who has a body pillow with some fictional character on it for a lover."

Kouta seemed concerned. He thought about what he'd been told a minute before saying anything more.

"Just be careful, Tokyo can have its shady folks." The native of the city advised. Ryu nodded in understanding.

"So you sure you don't want to hang out? I mean you don't NEED the money right now, do you Itogara-san?" the older of the two insisted.

"Maybe another time." Ryu repeated with another smile…

Ryu once again found himself at the residence of Daisuke Sabunari for the rest of his payment. The middle-aged man answered the door after a few rings of the bell, dressed like he was about to go somewhere. His expression betrayed a little surprise that the young man was back.

"Genta-san said he'd call you." The guitarist added.

"He did, and like a man of my word…" Daisuke replied. He disappeared inside the home for a few minutes and came back with another 1500 yen, plus an extra 500 as part of a proposition he'd been brewing up. Plus he had a few minutes before his meeting with a guy looking to do strike deal with him.

"You got it there pretty fast. I was expecting you to blow it off for a few hours at least." He observed.

"Guess you could say it came from delivering Sushi for about a year. Sometimes it earns me a bigger tip." The black-haired teen shrugged. He took the money and bowed in thanks and noted the extra money. He was about to point it out, but his employer nodded that it was fine.

"Say…how's that sit with you?" He asked, easing into how he'd intended to sell his offer.

"It pays enough." Ryu answered.

"You like it?" Daisuke asked. That earned him a suspicious look.

"It's a temporary job. I'm hoping that soon my bandmates and I will strike a record deal." He explained. The brunette nodded and got to the point of his first question.

"Well if that sushi job doesn't work out and your band doesn't get you much more money, here's my number. I think I could give you a job offer that'll pay a little more." He said, giving Ryu another piece of paper with said phone address on it. The young man looked at it, blinked, and then back up at him. The older man was excusing himself so he could go tend to business.

"Details? What's the job?" the black-haired teen asked. The shop owner was already going down the stairs, but he stopped and turned around.

"I'll give em to you if you call." Daisuke replied with a wink before heading one. Inside the brain of the lead guitarist of Yuurei, Kouta's words played themselves for what would probably be the second of several times.

_Just be careful, Tokyo can have its shady folks._


	4. C3: An Offer He Can't Refuse

**_A/N: Yeah...I'm just gonna give a warning that this tory will contain a small amount of smut. nothing graphic, but still..._**

_Chp. 3: An Offer He Can't Refuse_

_ "Just be careful, Tokyo can have its shady folks."_

The young man thinking those words for the 50th (though he hadn't been counting) as he laid on the loveseat of his "apartment", which was more like a hotel room with a small kitchen than anything else. The place reflected the only thing he'd kept from all of his dad's influences: organization. He found it oddly amusing how one of the stereotypes of his age was a messy living space. The young man toyed with the few strands of hair that fell down before his forehead.

"How exactly is a pawn shop owner a shady guy?" he muttered to himself.

He was trying to figure out what exactly Daisuke was offering him, or at least enough so he wasn't making a decision completely blind. Daisuke had promised details if he called, not requiring a yes or no answer right there…but…Ryu had a feeling there was something missing. Daisuke was a total stranger still, a man who'd come out of the blue and bailed him out of a fight. Kind yes, but he didn't give off the aura of a Good Samaritan. After all, Good Samaritans or people with high morals weren't exactly known for taking prostitutes to the sack…

The girl had been pretty too…and willing to make him a customer. Despite his romantic naivety, he knew the essentials to hitting on members of the opposite sex, and he wasn't an awkward virgin either…He shook his head and concentrated again. _Now's not the time to get all horny_ he thought with a determined face. The matter at hand was the man behind the offer…and for that matter this Izaya Orihara. Never mind the condescending tone and cutesy nicknames he handed out, "Yu-chan" something he would make sure gained little notoriety, The way he'd talked about the man with brown hair…running errands? WAS Daisuke Sabunari a drug dealer using a pawn shop as his cover? He certainly felt like the kind for the part. Women, nice place, able to hand out money without much complaint.

It made Ryu's heart go south a little. What if he was implicated in something? What if the police cracked down on Sabunari and Ryu got implicated for running illegal substances? His chances of success would plummet if that happened. The guitarist grasped both sides of his head and tried to get a grip on things. He countered the panic with positive thoughts. What if it wasn't contraband, or he convinced them he hadn't known. Or maybe he could help the police if things heated up. Yeah, then he'd be a small-time hero!

Again Ryu concentrated. Okay, he was going off too many tangents, he would have the best chances of making the right decision AND not screwing the pooch by simply calling and seeing what the job was. If it didn't sit well with him, he could decline it. If it felt uncomfortable (and illegal) enough, he could technically hand over Daisuke to the police. Sure it'd be a bit of a bastard move considering what the older man had done for him but in the bigger scope it wasn't too much of a sin if the Ikebukuro-goer was on the wrong side of the law. Yeah, he'd hear him out then let himself decide.

Ryu sat up and wrapped a hand around his phone. He took it from its resting spot atop the piece's arm by his feet and slid the crumpled paper with the number from his pants left pocket. The phone seemed to take forever to reach the "pawn shop owner".

"Ikada-san speaking." The familiar voice answered. Ry flinched at the unknown name. He almost apologized for calling the wrong number, but stopped himself.

"Sabunari-san?" he asked slowly.

"Ah yes, the young man…Itogara-san, I believe it was?" Daisuke replied with a tone of recognition.

"Who's Ikada-san?" the younger man asked, temporarily diverging from the point.

"I'll explain later. Anyways, what's up?" the man on the other side of the line asked, getting back on track.

"That job offer."

"You want in?"

"I want details."

"…You're a smarter boy than you look."

Ryu could feel the smirk radiating through his device, but he didn't retort.

"I just have one question." He added.

"Shoot." The brunette said readily. Ryu blurted out the question at machinegun speed.

"You aren't a drug dealer, are you?"

There was a second or two of stone-cold silence before the man of 32 years of age threw his head back and howled with laughter. His potential employee's face turned a hint of pink in embarrassment, but said nothing until the man caught his breath.

"No, no…nothing like that." He insisted between a few poorly stifled chortles.

"Good…" Ryu said, recomposing himself.

"Tell you what, I'm still busy. Do you know of a place called "Russia Sushi" here in Ikebukuro?" his potential employer asked.

"Yeah, I've heard a few blurbs from my boss. She seems a little less than happy with its existence." The delivery boy chuckled.

"Well tonight you get to disagree with her. Are you working then?" Sabunari replied.

"No, I have the afternoon shift in a few hours. I get off at six." The younger of the two shrugged, glancing at the clock nearby.

"Okay, then meet me at Russian Sushi at 6:45. You'll get your precious details then." Daisuke promised. Ryu gave a grunt of understanding and they exchanged goodbyes. He looked at his phone as he pulled it away from his head and turned the piece of electronics and plastic over in his hand a few times. It was definitely a weird day when you couldn't get the details of something that was supposedly legal right then…

The day at Red Gate Sushi was slow, agonizingly slow. These days came and went, but they always made sure to rub their speed, the lack there of that was, in your face like the snotty kid in class who just got a new toy. Between a pair of 14 year-old idiots who didn't know how to tip, a two-hour lack of orders, and an impatient driver whom Ryu had to stow the urge to chase after and scare the hell out of, it was making the unknown legality of Daisuke Sabunari's "pawn shop" business all the less important.

He sat at the sushi bar, waiting for the call to be sent out on his Yamaha. The time was 5:30. He was getting to the point where he would be willing to forego one last job and a little extra money for his freedom from the place. He was pre-occupied with how exactly he should make this work in his favor. He wanted to be paid well, and at least be able to have an appropriate thing to add to his band and sushi delivery pay. Daisuke seemed like a man who could negotiate, and he wouldn't try to screw the guy over for his own gain.

"Hey, Itogara-san." His boss spoke up. He looked at the woman.

"Yes, Urasaki-Buchou?" Ryu replied, looking over the counter. She motioned towards the back with one hand, a bag of trash in the other.

"Take this out and you're free to go." She proposed. He didn't hesitate and was soon stopping by his own home to get changed. He didn't know if the feeling of dislike was mutual between Russia Sushi and Red Gate, but he didn't want to encourage anything with his uniform. As he left, his phone rang. It was Asou.

"Hey, Shibatori-san." He greeted casually.

"Heya Itogara-san. Listen, when are you free next? The band needs to meet up." The lead singer asked, a little excitement apparent in his voice.

"Why?" Ryu asked, noting his friend's tone.

"King Records, they want to hear us play!" the long-haired twenty-something nearly shouted.

Ryu's jaw fell slack for a minute before he let out a charged "Fuck yes!"

"I told them I'd find out when everyone was available, and we can get a demo session with them at their local studio sometime in the next couple of days." Asou went on.

"The second everyone else is ready I'm ready!" Ryu exclaimed.

"Sweet, I'll see if we can't get something scheduled tomorrow." His senior assured.

They exchanged quick goodbyes before Ryu let out another happy exclamation and nearly became an excited little kid as he went down the stairs of the apartment building to his motorcycle. The drive to meet with Daisuke was done swiftly and with a light heart, though a near collision with a car forced him to stop daydreaming. He might not even need what he was about to be offered if King liked what they heard. He had to further control and reorient himself as he dismounted the TT 250 near a building with a Russian-style bulb over its entrance, similar to the ones of Saint Basil's Cathedral. His contact was across the way, standing alone. Ryu approached him and casually cleared his throat.

"Welcome back to 'Bukuro." The older man said with a flash of a grin. They exchanged bows of greeting and went inside. The place was small, even more so than Red Gate.

"Ah, Daisuke-san, you have returned. Makes my heart fill with joy!" the tall, dark-skinned man nearly shouted as they entered. Ryu flinched a little when the man's eyes swiveled towards him.

"Who is the young man?" he asked in an accent the subject of the question couldn't place.

"His name's Itogara Ryu, Simon-san." Daisuke introduced. Ryu bowed again.

"Nice to meet you." He added.

"This is Brezhnev, Simon Brezhnev." The businessman explained. That explained the "Russia" in the name…

The two men were given a table closer to the back and ordered their dinners, both steering clear of the establishments…more unique…entrees.

"So before you say anything…there is something that's come up. You know, just in case this position needs to be filled early." Ryu immediately said. The brunette tilted his head.

"What's that?"

"King Records…they want to hear a demo from the band I'm in." he admitted, unable to keep the pride from following his words. The other man laughed and clapped a little, genuinely amused and impressed.

"Well, then why did you come here?" He pointed out.

"Common courtesy." Ryu said with a half-grin.

They were brought their food before Daisuke got down to business.

"So, I noticed you're fast when it comes to delivery." He started as he poked at his tempura shrimp. Ryu nodded.

"It seems to get me paid better so I made it a habit." He explained as he swallowed a piece of a California Roll.

"Well, the job I'm offering is running things for me. Or in more plain terms becoming a smuggler." Daisuke explained in a very matter-of-fact way.

Ryu's eyes widened a little at the words. Smuggling? As in the stuff Han Solo did in Star Wars? He wanted him to deliver things like that?

"I…uh…" he stammered, unable to really compose a proper answer. Instead the young guitarist asked a question.

"Isn't that…illegal?"

"Only if you get caught." The brunette corrected.

Ryu shook his head.

"Okay why me and why do you not think I'm going to turn you in now that I know that?"

The man across from the teen gave a smile.

"Because the job I'm offering pays well. You see, I'm one of the bigger suppliers of goods in this area. Firearms, clothing, porn, medical goods, electronics, alcohol, all that good stuff you can't acquire legally or for a reasonable price. I just don't deal in illegal drugs, too far a step for me. I'll train you and make sure you can defend yourself, and you'll be paid appropriately if you show promise." He elaborated, waving his chopsticks around a few times. He looked at his single audience member and addressed the part regarding the authorities. His face became darker, more menacing as he weaved his fingers together in front of his face, resting his chin on the makeshift platform.

"And if you think of taking all this to the police, I give you this to ponder. Besides the fact the Awakusu-kai won't like losing a major supplier…"

The brunette revealed what was under his jacket: his trusty SiG. At the same time he nodded towards the sushi bar, where Ryu noted a cold-faced man in a pair of black dress pants and a blazer. He looked at Ryu behind a pair of rounded-glasses, his boxy head and slightly sloped shoulders making him look like a government agent more than anything.

"…I have ways of getting even." He finished with an equally unnerving tone.

The teen with a wolf-tail hairstyle was now a bit scared. He was talking to a guy who probably gave guns the Yakuza-type group in the area. Ryu barely knew how to fight, much less fire something like Daisuke had. The older man noted a gulp from him with a twisted smile of satisfaction.

"I…I understand." His young friend assured.

"Good, I won't take you away from stardom, but it's good pay, and not as morally bankrupt as you're probably assuming." The older man commented with approval. He swallowed some of his meal.

"Oh, and one more thing. Besides keeping it a secret, it's a full-time job." He pointed out.

The atmosphere had become uncomfortable now for Ryu Itogara. The nineteen-year old distracted himself by eating more of his sushi, and finishing it before he said anything else. He had only one question left before he would ease into his exit strategy.

"Why me? You and I have known each other a few days at most." The young man said. The Ikebukuro native sat back in his seat and thought for a minute. He then locked eyes with the guitarist and opened his mouth.

"Because I know a kid who needs a chance when I see one. You're in the same position I was, except I didn't have any shot at playing some world tour before hundreds upon hundreds of people. This world doesn't hand you things very often, but this is an exception." He clarified honestly.

The young man was impressed by the sincerity of what he'd said. He felt a sting of guilt for contemplating the idea of notifying the police in addition to his still-present fear. He looked at his empty plate and drew in a breath.

"I'll consider your offer, Sabunari-san. Thank you for your generosity." He said, bowing slightly. The brunette let him go and insisted on paying, which got him another bow of gratitude.

"Good luck." He remarked as Ryu left…

Ryu was once again sprawled out on his loveseat, thinking with the assistance of _Motorhead_. Despite his obvious preference to music, the offer from Daisuke had been something far out of left field, and his reasoning too. He'd chosen a random teen whom had only been on his own a year and it was because he saw Ryu needed a chance. He had a chance though, a chance at a record deal. But he still felt an odd sense of comfort in the fact that Daisuke saw he needed such an offer. His father had always tried to shape his life how he'd wanted it instead of letting the young bachelor demonstrate what he did best.

The only unresolved issue was the nature of smuggling. He was no holier-than-thou white knight, but the lead guitar player for "Yuurei" wasn't exactly itching to embrace a lifestyle like that. He'd seen this kind of thing in old movies like _Scarface_: you rise to power and die in a blaze of gunfire. He didn't feel like been put in the grave young, nor did he want to do it for a man he couldn't fully trust. The more he thought about it, the less it appealed to him. He would honestly rather continue his delivery gig than run illegal goods, or better yet justify the countless hours and money spent on music books, guitar strings, and picks.

He looked at the music player as the CD track changed, the revving of sounds followed by the razor-sharp growling of a guitar giving itself away as "Orgasmatron". He drew in breath like the British heavy metal was life-force, and listened to the lyrics as Lemmy Kilmister growled them in his ageing voice. He pushed aside the problems here in Tokyo, and began to look forward to his REAL future…

Mitsuki Inori was always a live-wire of a woman, which was what made Daisuke like her so much. She was the oldest of the girls at the brothel, only two years junior to the contraband runner, and the one who'd stuck him with the name "Dai-kun", to which he countered with "Suki-chan". He loved the way her red sweater was just a little too tight, her skirt just long enough to tease the imagination, the way her perfume clung to the inside of your nostrils, the energy she demonstrated. She was gonna drink his bank account dry one day, but he'd happily let her do it so long as she stayed the same. Maybe he'd even make her his wife one day so he wouldn't have to cough up 5200 yen per night.

The love-making was over now, and they were just talking. Also being a sort of lieutenant to the smuggler, the brunette had informed his raven-haired "lover" about the young man. She nearly slapped him for going home with Izumi, but she was more interested in his decision to offer some stranger a job, and even more so his reasons.

"I can't believe that was your logic. That's the bullshit you rip from some feel-good comedy's script, Dai-kun." She smirked as she traced a circle on his chest.

"The kid's stuck delivery sushi if he doesn't get a record gig, do you honestly think he wants that kind of schlock to be his career?" the man retorted.

"So he wants to be a criminal?" she said, sarcastically correcting herself.

"Laws like the ones I break are only there so the select few can maintain what they have. Sure we need laws, but we don't need so many."

"That's odd, coming from a man who used to be a government employee worker for the Ministry of Justice." The long-haired woman purred.

"I pushed pencils. I didn't have even a remote say in stuff regarding laws." He clarified. She nodded and rolled on top of him.

"So this boy, what's his name?" She asked with a smile.

"Itogara Ryu."

"Is he cute?"

"Hey, what am I? Raw sewage?"

"A man who's way too horny. A naïve young man sounds fun."

"That's cold, Suki-chan."

"And I was joking, I don't like young men. Besides, I'm not your girlfriend."

Daisuke chuckled and brought her lips down to his. His fingers ran through her hair as he pulled away.

"But I am your favorite customer." He observed with a wily smile.

"That you are." She admitted, pushing some hair away from his face.

The man turned his head towards the clock, then the window. He had to admit Mitsuki had a point, a good one too. He wasn't offering a world of happy bunnies and sparkly rainbows. It was a shady, morally gray place. He couldn't bring himself to feel much guilt about making the proposition to Ryu, since he hadn't forced the younger man's choice. He was free to…

Mitsuki nibbled on his ear to redirect his attention. Daisuke looked back up and copied her pencil-thin smirk.

"Stop thinking, and enjoy yourself." She whispered.

The black-haired woman parted his lips and he seized her by the waist, pulling her closer to him. Her breath hitched with excitement as he began to prove again WHY he was her favorite customer.


	5. C4: Whatta You Do For Money, Honey?

_Chp. 4: What do you do for Money, Honey?_

Being a Tokyo-based band, Yuurei was given its chance to shine in one of King Record's Tokyo-based offices in Bunkyo. They would bring their instruments and a few pieces of equipment, but the studio would provide several things. Asou gave them the full plan of attack on the van (Takeshi's van, that was) ride there.

"Okay, we get to record three songs, and they want a variety of sound so we can't just give them our fast-paced stuff or just the ballad-type numbers." He emphasized.

"Well we are a band whose music is style after guys like Dokken and Judas Priest, so we don't have THAT large of a variety, Shibatori-san." The lead guitarist reminded his excited friend.

"On that note, why would the record company known more for pop pick us up?" Takeshi chimed in. The proverbial head of the musical group was ready to answer.

"This guy I've been in contact with, trying to get us an appointment. His name is Nagata-san, and he thinks that this generation might be interested in some things that had nostalgia to it, and that older generations could be attracted on the same idea." He disclosed with a hint of pride. The singer ran his fingers through his long, unkempt hair and chuckled.

"Well, we won't disappoint." The bespectacled drummer laughed.

"Got that right." Ryu added.

The band shifted gears to deciding on the specific songs they would play. It finally came down to the first one they'd ever performed: _Forty-Seven Blades_. The other two would most likely be their only real ballad, _Along the East Highway_,and the drum-heavy _Guns of Mukden _would be their finale. The lead guitarist was personal proud of the second choice, as he'd been the one who'd gotten to create the rift (which had been inspired by the style of guitarist Eric Johnson). Takeshi took them off the freeway and to a large building that bore their potential producer's logo. They were instructed to proceed to the loading dock so their equipment could be taken inside. It was there "Nagata-san" met them.

"Welcome gentlemen, I'll be your go-between for the people who decide whether or not to sign on new acts." He said. His middle-aged appearance and gray suit emitted typical a businessman persona, but the members of the musical group couldn't be obligated to care what he looked like.

"So who will be listening to our recording?" the faux-blonde of a bassist asked.

"Marketing people, financial people…essentially the folks who see if something's worth initial pursuit. If you impress them you'll get one, maybe two albums before we decide if long-term investment is worth it. We'll only edit it so the song can be heard clearly." He explained as he led them down a nondescript hallway.

Eventually a few pictures began to dot the walls, mostly displays of King Record's past accomplishments and artists. Through a set of double doors they were brought to a small green room, where another man was standing.

"This is our studio technician, Shinishi-san. He'll be the one who actually records what you play." Their agent said. The two parties exchanged bows.

"Okay, go ahead and get set up in the studio. We'll get some water and fruit for you guys so no one collapses while playing." The tech said, jerking a thumb to the space on the other side.

Another doorway took them from the greenroom to the studio itself. The band had its instruments and a few pieces of equipment, but King Records had insisted on using its own things for the studio's benefit (i.e. not having to do much more than hook Yuurei up and record). The recording studio was plenty big for the five-strong band. Wordless assistants helped them get comfortable and properly set up for their little show. Nagata and Shinishi sat behind another glass window where the recording equipment lay. The latter keyed up his microphone.

"Okay guys, we're going to run a few sound tests and then we can get to business." He informed. Ryu adjusted the headphones he'd been asked to don and nodded as he looked down at his guitar…

Several anxious hours later, the members of Yuurei had gathered at a small restaurant over some noodles, beef, and vegetables. Nagata-san was also with them. In fact he'd been the one who'd delivered the verdict.

"Well fuck." Kouta finally spoke up as the group huddled around their small table after several minutes of tense silence. The agent, who'd joined them to help console, frowned and set down his glass of water.

"Off the record I think you all have some real potential, but apparently my superiors don't think this is an experiment worth carrying out. They're too concerned with keeping the demographic that wants sparkly-eyed prettyboys." He grumbled.

"Why should we even be surprised? We were just ignoring it…" Takeshi said with a wry smile that he had to force.

"…I'd like to think we at least had some small chance, especially with the whole nostalgia angle." Kai said, trying to sound a bit more optimistic.

"Yeah, HAD." Ryu corrected with subdued frustration. The youngest member looked at their singer.

"So, what do we do now, Shibatori-san?" he asked. The man set down his beer and lowered his head.

"We…well, let's take a little time to absorb this hit. We're still a band, and we still have chances. One defeat shouldn't be the reason we break-up." He declared after musing a bit.

"Yeah! We're still together! We can still land shows!" Kai said, gaining more momentum on his "glass half full" attitude.

But Ryu couldn't be convinced. King Records was the top of its business sector in Japan, and if they had rejected them then what did that tell him? He could hear his father now…his chuckle and grin. Of course the young man would never admit defeat; he would never let the older man know. He would rather strangle his own father before he admitted he'd failed at a career Shinjuo Itogara had condemned as a vain goal from the start.

"Itogara-san, ease up. You're gonna crush your glass."

The guitarist realized, at the sound of Kouta's voice, he'd been steadily tightening his grip on the container of cola before him. He stood up and let a low breath escape him.

"I'm sorry…I'm just tired." He assured. Kouta nodded slowly and dropped the subject.

Ryu didn't say much the rest of the night. The eventual decision was that the group should take a few weeks off to deal with the blow. But all the meanwhile the youngest member had been pushed further and further. His emotions were strong, but he didn't mind that. The band would be apart for some time, and when they met again he could decide which way to go. He wouldn't give away Daisuke's lifestyle if he left, and he didn't want to be shot. For now the life of a smuggler and the danger it presented as a possibility made his inner adrenaline junkie cringe with anticipation.

After the group decided on a three-week hiatus, they scrambled. Ryu turned down a ride home, citing that he lived close enough and wanted to walk alone so he could think. Kouta was again unsettled by the decision.

"Hey man, wait up." He objected as the young guitar player turned to head off into the evening cityscape. He stopped and ambled back, hands jammed in his jean pockets.

"What is it, Nakamura-san?" He asked.

"You okay? If I didn't know any better you look about ready to strangle the nearest bystander." The glasses-wearing drummer pointed out.

"We just got rejected by King Records, Nakumura-san. How could I not be angry?" he said in his defense.

"Just don't do anything stupid, okay? You're a good guitarist, and the last thing you should be doing is throwing that away." the older one emphasized. Ryu nodded in agreement.

"It's a bad turn of luck, but not enough to make me go postal." He added. They shared a laugh at the absurdity of that statement.

"Okay, well we should hang out sometime. Hit up a few places and chase some pretty girls." Kouta suggested as he pushed up his round glasses and molded his short, spiky hair back into the way he liked. Ryu laughed again, this time with more vivaciousness, and smiled at his bandmate and friend.

"I won't pass that up." He declared truthfully. It got a grin out of the older of the two and he exchanged goodbyes with the young man, telling him that if he needed to vent he knew who to call.

Ryu went down the street, taking his phone from his right pocket. He had the number saved, and once he was sure he was away from anyone who knew him, he stopped and slid towards a semi-secluded corner of a building and put the device to his ear.

"Well Itogara-san, should I be congratulating you on ge-"

"My band didn't make it." Ryu cut him off with. The temporary feeling of lightheartedness vanished with the words. There was a brief, uncomfortable pause as Daisuke Sabunari got a handle on why the young man was calling.

"So I guess that forces your hand then…in a way." he supposed.

Ryu forced his next breath and relaxed his jaw.

"I want in. I'll quit my delivery job as soon as I can." He managed without letting his anger be more apparent. There was a second brief pause before Daisuke spoke.

"Okay then. Once you're unemployed call me and we can get things started. Also…"

There was a long pause that smelt of reluctance. It took Daisuke a minute to convince himself he had to be blunt. He could be an asshole, but he wasn't a fucking asshole.

"You know you gotta quit the band, Itogara-san…"

Ryu swallowed the heartbreak and nodded. He kept his own plan though.

"…Yeah…"

The smuggler felt himself in a mildly uncomfortable position. He'd never had any experience guiding younger folks. He had never been anything close to a father, or a big brother. The kid was obviously on the verge of going postal or just collapsing into a sobbing mess, and he doubted he had anyone to vent to.

"…I'm sorry." Was all he could think to whisper.

Ryu heard the words, but they only gave his emotions a little sedation. He let himself be quiet for a brief time so he could speak clearly. The last thing he wanted to do was exhibit too much weakness around the smuggler.

"Okay, I'll call you again when I've parted ways with the delivery gig.' He assured the brunette. Sabunari traced along the shape of his head and gave a quick "sure thing."

As the other line hung up Ryu's gaze fell to the pavement and noted a can nestled against the corner of the building he was near. He examined it a minute, maybe two, before grabbing the piece of empty aluminum and glanced down the tight space dividing the two structures near him. He gritted his teeth, and in what was a semi-satisfying act of ventilation, hurled the inanimate object into the darkness, snarling at it as it sailed off. King Records could burn, the money-loving slime balls…

The dark-haired man parted ways with Red Gate free of any hitches. He'd lied…sort of…and said he'd found another job that he felt he could make a career out of. Miss Urasaki didn't seem to care so long as he turned in his uniform and credit card machine. The young man left with a few goodbyes to the people he was on good terms with. Another call to his new boss led him back into Ikebukuro and once again before the smuggler's abode. The man came out in track pants and a white t-shirt. He looked a little like he'd just woken up.

"So what do I need to know?" the younger man asked, crossing his arms and cocking an eyebrow.

"Well, you see we can't just talk about it like politics or something…this is a questionable business at best." He reminded the Urawa native. Ryu nodded in understanding.

"And speaking of which…I can't exactly show you things just yet, so come on inside and we can talk there." The older man went on.

The two ascended the steps again and went inside. He was surprised to find two other people inside. One was the man who'd been watching them at Russia Sushi, and the other was a woman who gave the same aura as the girl Daisuke had been with a handful of nights ago (the tight sweater didn't do much to convince him otherwise). He knew the first guy had to be some kind of lieutenant, maybe even an enforcer of Daisuke's.

"Itogara-san, these are my two lieutenants…" the leader of the group began. He motioned at the man, who was in a suit this time, took off his sunglasses and examined the young guitarist.

"Thach, Nyugen Thach." The man said with an indifferent nod. His name connected with Ryu's mind as being Vietnamese. He'd never met anyone from that part of the region. He gave him a bow of greeting.

"It's a pleasure, Thach-san." He added. Daisuke drew their attention back to him, then the woman.

"He is also known as Hikuro Satoshi, just as I am Ikada Hiroshi, if you understand my drift. The mademoiselle right here is Inori Mitsuki." Daisuke went on, his tone taking a more affectionate turn with her. Ryu gave her the courtesy of a bow as well.

"I would've thought you'd had a few more lieutenants than this…" he observed.

"I employ various runners and often my clients like to meet with me directly or use their own runners." He explained.

"So that's what I'll be then? A runner?" the young man asked as he took a seat at the table. He got his answer in the form of a nod. Ryu grinned and felt a bit of enthusiasm.

"So, do I get a weapon? A gun? How much do I get paid?" he asked, talking at machine-gun speed. His employer held up a hand to quiet him.

"First off, you have the job, but you don't have all of my trust yet. Your speed was impressive with the run, but I'm not going to just pour everything on you yet." Daisuke explained.

"Still think I'm going to sell you out?"

"No, but there are probably people who'd like to make you crack so they can get the upper hand on me, government affiliated or otherwise."

The dark-haired teen snorted.

"Yeah, that'll look real nice in the papers…"young teen tortured for information on smuggling ring."

"Second off, you'll be trained, but you don't get any kind of firearm right off the bat. The fact that you said "gun" is a testimony to the fact you could use training on that front." the senior man clarified. Ryu cocked a brow.

"What's wrong with saying "gun"?" He asked.

"A "gun" is something you boys shoot, but it doesn't fire bullets, if you catch my drift…" Mitsuki chimed in with a smile. After a minute the apprentice smuggler's face turned a little red.

"Oh…" he muttered slowly.

"Now, now Mitsuki-chan, don't embarrass the poor boy." Daisuke smiled, tossing her a wink. He looked back across the table and got to a few more serious questions.

"So you're okay with the legality of this job?" He asked. Ryu scowled and glanced away from the table at him.

"I accepted it, didn't I? Besides, I'm not going to spend the rest of my life using my Yamaha to get a spider roll to some person who's too lazy to leave their home."

The brunette nodded and leaned forward.

"Very well, then do you accept the job? Are you willing to cross the line and accept you can get injured, and that you are about to enter a world that is hard?"

Ryu kept his temper in check, and nodded in a very jerky matter.

"I do, the fact that I came here should prove that, right?" he asked with a little bit of a forced smile. Daisuke accepted that as truth quietly, but he could tell he was pushing the kid a bit too much.

"Itogara-san, lighten up. In fact…"

The brunette pulled out a small wad of Yen from his pocket and tossed it to him.

"…There's a brothel three blocks east of here in an old hotel. Near a little convenience store and a block of apartments Go get laid so you can actually concentrate tomorrow. I'm not letting you handle any kind of weapon, real or fake, when you're this pissed off." He instructed. The younger man opened his mouth to object to all the things he was being given, but the smuggler stopped him.

"And that's the only time I'm giving you money you didn't earn. The rest of this stuff is mandatory and the dinner at Russia Sushi was to get your attention, but from now on you earn your own fun, comprendo?" He explained.

The teen nodded and looked at the money, the Mitsuki. He'd only ever had sex twice. The first time had been a rather fast-paced fling in the back of a club with a Yuurei groupie when they'd just begun to gain some local fame. The second had been another girl, but they'd actually gone to a hotel. He had never actually hired a girl to engage in intimacy with him…and it didn't make him feel comfortable that he was all but being ordered to do so. Maybe the woman would be willing to accept him as a client. Daisuke seemed to trust her…

"Sorry, I only accept clients that are around my age." Mitsuki commented, almost reading his mind. He was unable to suppress another embarrassed blush. She cut him some slack, though.

"I think you'd be best to go there and ask for a blonde girl named Natsuyo. She's good at adapting to her clients, so she should fit your bill." The black-haired woman advised. He nodded and glanced towards the door.

"I guess I'll be going now." He said. Daisuke nodded and Ryu turned to leave, but stopped and turned around.

"Thank you, Sabunari-san. Not many people give me chances." He said sincerely.

"Well, I just hope you use it wisely. Now run along and for fuck's sake don't forget to use a condom." He smiled, being half-serious. It got a laugh out of the new member of the business.

"Yeah, sure thing Otousan." He retorted before leaving…

Ryu had walked out of the apartment with a bit of confidence, but it'd begun to slip away when he reached the brothel. He'd actually had to call Daisuke and get a little more detail too, but he found the place. Part of his funds had gotten him a pack of condoms, which he hid in his pocket. The rest was apparently so he could get lucky and "lighten up" as the criminal had said.

The young man ascended the steps and was greeted by a guard. He stated he was simply looking for a girl to take home with him, and a quick pat-down proved he wasn't armed. Immediately inside he was greeted by another man behind a desk. It seemed odd that a brothel have a reception desk, but it gave him an opportunity.

"I'm looking for a girl named Natsuyo." He explained. The man considered him a moment then nodded down the hall.

"I believe she should be near her room. Third one on the left after you pass the crapper." He said in a gravelly voice.

He gave a grateful wave and left the man's sight. The place seemed deserted, but then again most of the "business" probably took place behind the closed doors he passed. As he passed the bathrooms after a handful of rooms, his eyes fell upon two figures near one door. He could tell one was blonde, and by probably this Natsuyo. The other was some guy, maybe four years Ryu's senior, who seemed about ready to fall over.

"Come on, I'm not THAT drunk." Ryu heard in insistence. The girl only looked away and let out an uncomfortable "Mmhmm". The teen thought on his feet, then slapped on a smile.

"Excuse me sir, but the owner would like to talk to you!" he spoke up in a cheery tone. The stranger looked at him over his shoulder.

"What…" he only muttered.

"The owner is upstairs. He would like to speak to you. I'll make sure Natsuyo-san isn't taken by another client." He clarified and assured.

The drunk absorbed the words for a period of time, and then stumbled off. Ryu's conscious let out a relieved sigh that he'd been dealing with the gullible kind of drunk. When the man had gone far enough and began ascending the stairs, the smuggler-to-be looked back at the young prostitute. The girl looked to be about his age, actually. Skinny, modest bosom and short blonde hair accompanied by punk-style ear gauges, black-colored lips and mascara. That combined with her skin tone made her look more European than Japanese.

Natsuyo Minami considered the young man who'd helped get the drunk away from her (said man was now struggling to get upstairs). He was skinny, naïve-looking (he was probably her age), and she could see he had a wolf-tail on the nape of his neck. If she hadn't known any better, she would've reckoned him a samurai. The little act of chivalry added to the image. At the very least he wasn't drunk…

"You are Natsuyo-san…correct?" he asked. She nodded.

"Yes." the young woman replied. Ryu's next words failed to come out immediately, but after a minute he pushed them out.

"Can I sleep with you?"

He'd said it like some schoolboy confessing to his crush, and it amused her a little.

"You seem uncertain that you want that, Samurai-san~" she said in a very teasing way. Her voice was like Izaya's, only childish and actually pretty cute.

"No, I'm just not used to the idea of paying for sex." He explained. Natsuyo's eyes ran up and down him.

"Mmhmm…First time?"

"No, third."

There was a surprise. She considered him a moment, and decided to give him a chance. He had, after all, warded off the other man and known her name prior. A smile formed on the prostitute's lips at the thought he'd specifically been looking for her.

"Very well, Samurai-san. If I'm the girl you want, I'm the girl you get." She answered with a nod.

Ryu copied the gesture and withdrew the money from his pocket. She accepted half of her payment up front and opened the door to her small room, grasping his hand and leading him inside. The wooden entrance clicked shut and the young man surveyed the room. It was lit by dull a single lamp and had a single bed. There was an ashtray and a few other pieces of furniture. She turned around and looked at him.

"So…I assume you came to me because I'm adaptable…what is it that you want?" Natsuyo said in an inquisitive tone. Her client shrugged.

"Just vanilla sex…I'm not the kinky type." He clarified.

"Okay then." The blonde remarked. It was his money after all…

Ryu excused himself to don the anti-pregnancy device he'd acquired, also putting aside his shoes, socks, wallet and phone. When he returned Natsuyo was sitting on her bed, waiting for him. He sat down next to her and simply followed the steps he had inside the love motel months ago. His hand slid under her chin, turned her face towards his and united their lips. The smuggler-in-training's other hand clenched the front of her shirt and lifted it as he kissed her repeatedly.

Natsuyo sped things up a bit rather soon, either by taking her (and his) disrobing into her own hands or teasing him to move faster or the night would be over before he and her reached intimate contact. The young woman quietly noted he was treating this like she was his lover or something, and not as ready to go at it as others. But to him her skin felt soft to the touch, and he could feel himself becoming further aroused by the call girl. His hands cupped around her breasts and he pulled her close, pressing his lips against her neck hungrily. The ex-guitarist wanted to enjoy the foreplay a bit more, but the girl he was with had her own agenda. She rolled over so she faced him and gave another childish smile, breaking free of his grip.

"So slow, Samurai-san. Most men tear off their clothes and get through the touchy-feely part much faster~" She observed, fingers dancing along his chest. He gave her a wink.

"Something wrong with enjoying yourself?" He retorted.

She gave a quick chuckle and turned the lights turned off, and he let his hands guide him as he seized her. Sex was…it was…invigorating and tiring at the same time. There was something about Natsuyo…her sighs and moans…the way it all worked. It was still a relatively new thing to "Samurai-san" though…but with this girl, he found himself tempted to like it…

_**A/N: Well, now that the little bit of smut is over ; I'd like to introduce Natsuyo Minami, an OC belonging to the lovely Nilesdaughter. She has kindly allowed me to use her in this story and she will make many more appearances down the road.**_


	6. C5: Training Day

_Chp. 5: Training Day_

Ryu awoke sometime the next morning after half a dozen hours (rough guess) of post-intimacy sleep. He'd kept his hands to himself for the most part after his little session of love-making with the young woman. During that time he tried to piece together some kind of…reaction, for lack of better term. Sex wasn't an area of expertise, and the lack of feeling as hot between the legs as his two times prior to this was odd…

His eyes slid open as the smell of tobacco wafted through the air just south of his nostrils. Next to him, the prostitute was smoking, having only donned her undergarments. She noted his conscious nature.

"Good morning." the blonde observed with a flash of a smile.

"Good morning." He replied, sitting up and arching his back with a groan. His hair, devoid of the band that kept his wolf's tail in place, fell across his shoulders in an unkempt manner.

He looked at her as she held out a pack of cigarettes towards him.

"Would you like one?" she asked.

"How long have you been up?" Ryu asked as he accepted one of the tobacco-filled sticks. Alcohol might've been something that didn't mix well with him, but he could handle cigs.

Natsuyo, without even asking, opened a lighter she gripped and lit one end, allowing her client to properly ingest the contents of the cigarette. It seemed to have appeared out of nowhere.

"Thanks." He replied, a little surprised.

He also noted that she had taken her sweet time lighting the stick, and seemed a little engrossed in the tiny flame. She seemed to revert back to normal before he could ask. The woman studying the unclothed client and gave him a cat-like grin.

"A few hours, was Samurai-san that worn out by such a tame night?" she asked. He blew out some smoke and leaned towards her, cupping his hands around her bosom and tightening his grip.

"Would you like me to try again and be more energetic?" he asked, talking into her right ear. His young mind had no qualms about a second round of fun.

"I don't do seconds for free~" the petite call girl responded.

Ryu grinned and took another draw. Natsuyo…oddly interesting girl to say the least. She didn't say much, but when she teased you into wanting her before you went at it she made you want her. She did have a nice moan too…sharp and loud. The ex-guitarist lay on his back and stared at the ceiling. Eventually he got out of bed and picked up his clothes from the carpeted floor. He tossed the used rubber in a trash can, actually bothering to tie it up like he'd been taught in Sex Ed. classes.

Natsuyo watched him with masked amusement. Her adaptability had put her through many…less than pleasant…kinks. At first she would turn them down, but now it was the only way to get money. Samurai-san had none of those, and as he'd asked they'd gone at it without anything more than anatomy going where it was supposed to. She could tell he wasn't from Tokyo, nor had he ever had sex with a prostitute. The blonde girl was quietly happy she'd made her money tonight without having to do something unusual or just downright creepy, but she had one problem with Ryu's vanilla tastes and naivety: he seemed too nice. He'd never called her woman", "slut or anything some of her more impatient customers barked, just her name.

It was unsettling, and she tried to pin just WHY he was acting so nicely towards her. She had a small knife sitting under her bed, and his mentioning of more sex made her suspicious he might try and force her into giving him a free fucking. Natsuyo shifted just a little towards the blade's hiding spot and waited as he turned around to face her. The young man tilted his head at her.

"Something wrong, Natsuyo-san?" the dark-haired teen asked as he slid his shirt down over his head. Her expression quickly changed.

"Nothing, Samurai-san." She replied. He opened his mouth to persist, but the young woman's expression told him enough. The door was beckoning him by that point.

"Well, thanks, I had a helluva night." He bowed. The Urawa native then looked at her and decided to say one last thing.

"Could I see you again, sometime?" He asked. She chuckled and blew a little smoke from her mouth.

"This IS my profession, Samurai-san~" she teased.

"Right, right." the smuggler mumbled, a little embarrassed.

He gave her the last of her money and quietly scurried off to begin his new life as a "Runner"…

Contrary to his initial thoughts, his education in smuggling and his mandatory education he'd received from the Japanese Government had a few parallels. Subject matter was different of course, but Daisuke was now very much a teacher to him.

"Hey, I was thinking, Sabunari-san…" the young man asked as he was being shown one of the small storage facilities owned by the "businessman". The brunette looked at him.

"What?"

"Should I call you "Sensei" or "Buchou" or something like that? I mean you are my boss now." He reasoned. The older male considered the idea for a minute before shaking his head.

"Nah, just call me "Sabunari-san" for the most part…" He said, then looking over at his apprentice.

"…Also, remember that name I answered my phone with?"

"Yeah, I remember. Ikada-san, correct? An alias?"

"Mmhmm. Only use that when I instruct you. You can probably guess why I have that."

Ryu nodded and it brought him to another thought.

"Should I be lugging around an alias too?" He asked.

"Yeah, I'll let you take care of that little detail just let me, Mitsuki-chan, and Thach-san know." Daisuke agreed.

They sat down in a corner of the large space, and Ryu looked at the boxes for a minute. They were all hidden under the guise of some small-business that probably didn't really exist. He'd also noted a security system, though only its cameras and keypads, and none of its defense mechanisms.

"So how did you come to this point? Why smuggling?" he asked. The older man looked at him.

"It was a long road. I'd had a knack for delivering things when I had a legal jobs, and when I found less legality meant more pay, I started up this little ring. Eventually the Awakusu-kai picked up on me and found me a reliable asset. A big part of why I'm able to run this operation with so few lieutenants is I control its size and stay on Shiki-san's good side."

"Shiki-san?"

"Local boss."

Ryu nodded and Sabunari drew in some breath.

"Okay, so I've told you how this'll work. Tell it back to me."

"You, Inori-san or Thach-san will contact me and give me the proper code for one of the places I'll pick up the item, and I'll find the destination with the item. Once I've got it and confirmed it's in my possession I deliver it, and they have to confirm they received it. I get part of my pay up front and part of it once you've gotten confirmation." The youth replied at length. It earned him an approving nod.

"Good, good. And I promise it's that simple." The senior man assured.

Ryu nodded, keeping his suspicions to himself. For now he would keep giving Daisuke the benefit of the doubt until the words showed some truth. He would not be a means to an end. It seemed very simple, and that made sense. He just carried things from Point A to Point B and kept his mouth shut.

"So…I have rent to pay, how often can I be guaranteed a job?" the young man asked as the thought came to his mind's forefront.

"I'll get em for you as often as I can, is the rent that much?"

"I live in quite possibly the cheapest place you can get."

"Well either way I'll make sure to pas anything I get your way and if it sounds good to you, then it's yours."

Ryu nodded and Daisuke drew in another breath.

"Okay then, that part of the training was quick and easy, eh? Now comes the fun stuff." Daisuke spoke up.

"Firearm training?" Ryu asked, reminding himself to speak the proper term.

"Yes, come on." His mentor beckoned.

They left the garage and walked to the light rail station in Ikebukuro. The ride from there took them very far to the south, towards the harbor areas. As they did, Ryu noted a sign for a concert: Asian Kung-Fu Generation at Budokan. It set off a small fire in him, but he kept his gaze away from the older man. He still had time to think and choose…

They disembarked near Tokyo Harbor and under Daisuke's navigation arrived at a strip of warehouses. Each was no different than the ones next to and across from it: square, dull-white structures with serial numbers and occasional various corporate names on them. Most were for rent.

"So what is this place?" the teen asked, toying with his wolf's tail.

"I'll explain inside." Daisuke said, motioning towards a door on the building's side entrance.

Ryu's suspicions spiked a little as he went in. Nyugen was present.

"Sadly, for all its simplicity, we are also required to be ready to defend ourselves. This is where we start your weapons training." Daisuke answered.

"What kind of weapons do you guys use?" his apprentice asked.

"Mostly handguns with hollow-point bullets. They're easy to conceal and good in close-range fights, which is most likely what you'll find yourself in if the shit ever hits the fan. The bullets are to prevent over-penetration, especially in built-up areas. We also use shotguns and very, VERY occasionally rifles and SMGs." The Vietnamese man explained.

Meanwhile the leader of the illegal conglomerate picked up a pair of brightly-colored objects from a low stack of boxes. He tossed one to the square-jawed lieutenant and looked at Ryu. The young man could now see a toy dart gun in Daisuke's grip.

"I want you to show me how well you can defend yourself before so we don't waste time beating any dead horses. We're basically gonna play a game of Cowboys and Indians in here." He explained.

Daisuke took a step forward and held out the toy pistol, grip pointed towards Ryu. His apprentice took the faux weapon and weighed it in his hand. He looked up and accepted a handful of foam darts as well, sliding one into the barrel and stuffing the rest in his right pocket. Thach and Sabunari also had their own amounts of ammo.

"Seems pretty fun." The youngest of the three observed with a flash of a smirk.

"You see, me and Thach-san here are pretty good shots, so I wouldn't be getting too cocky if I were you." Daisuke told him a "mind-you" tone.

"So I just need to shoot you two?" the smuggler-in-training asked. His boss nodded.

"Same for us."

Ryu nodded and sprinted off into the maze of boxes, pulling back the slide on his only line of defense. After a few seconds and from behind a stack of wooden crates he heard the other two men's footfalls as they began a meticulous-sounding search for him. His first thought was to play it like the stuff on TV, the realistic stuff. Let them come to you and pick them off, it made sense. He looked around for some way to get a better view on them, and maybe a shot. The boxes he was behind offered a makeshift vantage point, but probably would leave him exposed atop them and ascending them. He inched towards the corner raising his weapon and gripping it in two hands. When he looked around the corner, he spotted Daisuke. The senior man also got an eye on him and raised his weapon.

Ryu backed up just as a flash of orange went by. Daisuke called out to Nyugen, putting more pressure on the young man to do something. He thought, and thought, and finally he stood up and drew in a breath. The two men hadn't moved in on him yet, meaning they felt complacent and probably had him cornered. He stood up and made sure the weapon was properly cocked. He charged forward and aimed around the corner as the smuggler felt his feet launch him into the air…

…Only to see Daisuke still alone. He pulled the trigger with wide eyes, and his shot went wild while he felt a soft blow to his abdomen. Next he got the cold floor of the building as a consolation prize. He didn't feel too much pain, it smarted but he'd had worse. However it was the shame of embarrassment when he stopped practically at the Vietnamese man's feet. With little more than a second's hesitation he shot the "dead" teen a second time. Ryu heard shoes approaching as he sat up and got to face his boss.

"You will last even less time than I fathom if you fight like that, Itogara-san." Nyugen chimed in, shaking his head. The nineteen year-old could feel scorn in the man's eyes.

"Itogara-san…what the fuck was that?" Daisuke asked, his voice having a tone that reminded one of a parent scolding something that was very obviously dumb.

"You had me pinned down!" The young man protested.

"So you decided your best option was to jump across like some action star?"

"…"

"…Itogara-san, is this Hollywood?"

"…No."

"Are you Bruce Lee, Chuck Norris, or Jean Claude Van Damme?"

"…"  
"Itogara-san!"

"No, I'm not."

"Then don't act like it next time. You lasted less than five minutes, you realize that, right?" the brunette concluded. The young guitarist got up and dusted himself off.

"Yeah, I get it." he said, a little irked the chewing out seemed like it was going to be prolonged.

"Okay, it seems we have a lot of improvement to administer, especially on tactics. Here's how it's gonna work." Daisuke began. He held up one finger.

"Tactics training, with both stuff like this and books. Nothing too fancy, but enough to make sure you last me a while." He explained.

Finger two.

"Actual weapons, handgun first, then maybe a shotgun. We can do this at a gun store."

Ryu nodded. Though he'd often locked horns with his dad when he told him things like this, he'd willingly joined, and so for now what Daisuke said was law.

"So on that note, I have a few pieces of literature for you to delve into so you won't be buried in an early grave." He said, leading him to a small filing cabinet.

The older man withdrew a trio of soft-cover books and handed them to the wolf-tailed one. Ryu observed the words "Gun Professional" in bright-red letters across the cover of the first. The second was a manual on a handgun, the Glock 18. The third was titled "U.S. Army Urban Warfare".

"The first is for general information. The second is because the Glock is a good weapon, and something I think would suit you. The third is so you don't pull that Hollywood shit again." His mentor/employer explained. Ryu let out a nervous chortle.

"I'll give you a day or two to study up on things before we actually begin shooting and training. These books are now holy texts, and you will learn them. By the time we're done, you'll be able to shoot a Coke can off a bullet train." The smuggling boss promised. He then sent the young man on his way to study so he could get to a meeting here at the docks.

Daisuke watched him go and sighed, looking at the toy gun in his palm. His foreign counterpart was disturbingly quite. Sabunari took note of it.

"You still questioning my judgment, Thach-san?" he asked as he took out a cigarette to calm his nerves. The man considered his employer a minute, and then shook his head.

"No, no sir. Just hoping it's right."…

Ryu sat back in his seat and took another pull from the bottle of water that'd been resting on his dinner table next to a dish containing the cheapest meat and potatoes a bachelor could get. He flipped another page of the Glock 18 book. He'd been reading for an hour straight, picking at his meal every so often as he read more on the Austrian firearm. He read things twice sometimes, just to make sure. Firearms…they were oddly riveting. So many parts, capabilities and, science. He could imagine himself like Al Pachino or Robert De Niro in _Heat_, handgun gripped firmly as he fired at a threat.

He set down the manual and scooped another piece of meat into his mouth. His eyes shifted towards his CD rack, one of the very few things he'd kept with him for so many years. The subject of an alias resurfaced in his conscious, and he walked over to the rows of neatly plastic containers and slid one from its place. It was Loudness's _Thunder in the East_. Ryu turned it over and his eyes fell upon the members of the band. He considered all the first names and surnames, toying with a few combinations until he took the bassist (Hiroyuki Tanaka) and singer (Minoru Niihara). The young man looked up and threw around a few combinations before settling with Hiroyuki Niihara.

"Hiroyuki Niihara…" He repeated slapping the case against his palm a few times.

He set the container back in its place and finished his food, as he took his dishes to the tiny sink He glanced at his tattoo, fully visible now that he was bare-chested. He chewed on his alias one last time. It seemed to roll off the tongue well enough…


	7. C6: The Formalities of Criminal Business

_Chp. 6: The Formalities of Criminal Business_

The phone's ring took Ryu from his rock n' roll fantasy of a dream and back into reality. Cold, hard, bitchy reality. He groped for the device and noted the time of 8:02 AM on its screen. The number was Daisuke's.

"Morning Sabunari-san." He said as he rubbed his eyes with his free hand.

"Good morning Itogara-san, ready for your first delivery for the pawn shop?" the older man said.

"Yeah, who's the customer?" Ryu asked, keeping up with the code speak.

"A guy named Kazutano-san ordered this odd knick-knack: a lamp made with a Coca-Cola bottle. Apparently it has some sort of sentimental value. You can grab it at our storage setup over by the station. The box's number is 26613." The brunette on the other end briefed.

"Hang on, let me write that down." Ryu spoke up. He nestled the phone between his head and shoulder and groped around for a pen. Unable to find any paper, he simply raised his left arm and asked for the box's ID again. Now the important part…

"So what's payment?" Itogara asked.

"8100."

The rookie let out a whistle and once again had the phone in his hand.

"Seriously?"

"Yeah, it's apparently both fragile and rare."

"A lamp using a Coke bottle is worth that much Yen?"

Of course it probably wasn't such a thing, but he didn't know what else to call his delivery.

"Beats me, Itogara-san, I just deliver shit." Sabunari shrugged.

"You mean *I* deliver shit. Anyways I'll take it." the teen reminded him.

"Good, have it to him by two this afternoon. You and I have a meeting at three, as you know." Daisuke reminded him before hanging up.

The dark-haired teen dragged himself from bed and made sure he looked clean and organized. Breakfast that morning was a long swig from the milk carton and cereal, and before a shower he transferred the number to a piece of paper. He walked out of his Kita apartment and down the stairs to his bike on the street. Ryu strapped the brain bucket on and revved the engine. It coughed a little before letting out a low rumble. He snapped back the throttle twice to make sure.

His TT 250 had some serious power in it, power he liked to exercise. He had the machine above the speed limit by the time he'd hit the freeways, preferring straight-runs to jammed city streets where there was more risk. Cars flashed by as he passed them, occasionally revving his engine to show off. Today he felt better than the past few days, more alive and energetic. Maybe it was he was coming to terms with the turn in his life, which in all honesty had no real punch to it. Now that he'd joined the less-than-legal crowd, he could see nothing that gave a logical reason for it to be so. But then again maybe it was because he didn't hold up banks, steal cars or kill people. Heck even his visit to the brothel gave him no shame, though it was still odd paying for sex. Maybe he would go again sometime soon…

The young man descended into Ikebukuro once again, now slowly becoming familiar with the small district. His pickup point was a storage place like the example Daisuke'd shown him. Ryu dismounted his bike in the alley next to it and walked to the side door, lifting the cover off the keypad. His fingers punched in the code 8-3-8-1 with the same number of beeps. Upon confirming the code, the tiny piece of technology gave a happy beep and rewarded Ryu with the sound of a metallic click. He grinned and turned the knob.

Inside the young man flipped up the nearest light switch and casually ambled towards the far corner of the room as the door closed and locked itself to the outside world behind him. The space was setup with a series of shelves on one half and pallets on the other. Ryu walked along the farthest shelves, looking among the few items there were. He finally found package at the end of the ad hoc passageway.

The box had a fragile warning label and was no bigger than his hands combined. He weighed it in his grip and noted little, if any, weight. He heard no movement inside…maybe it really was some kind of cheap "novelty" trinket. The thought settled in and he suppressed a laugh. Daisuke Sabunari, the man who smuggles lamps.

In the package's spot he also found an envelope containing two other things: half his payment and an address. He stuffed one in his wallet, the other next to his cell phone, and secured the storage room before leaving.

"So eager to break the law if it means saving himself from begging? Or perhaps it's something else, ne?~"

The voice seemed to come from above, but Ryu still looked around the alley. He heard a light thump against the pavement. His gaze swept towards the second sound and met a pair of catlike eyes.

"We meet again, Yu-chan." The man said.

"Oh yeah…you…" Ryu replied, unable to recall who his visitor was.

"So, now we're a full-fledged employee?"

"What's it to you?"

"Oh nothing really, but it does interest me how quickly you seemed to have said yes?"

"Hey, as long as I'm not killing or stealing….whatever your name is…"

"Ah, you've already forgotten me, Orihara Izaya?" Izaya said with faux exasperation.

"I never really saw you as important." The younger man (or at least, that's what Ryu guessed) shrugged.

"Don't worry, someday I will be seen as that." He assured. The smuggler tilted his head and considered the man for a minute.

"I don't swing that way, you know." He answered with a bit of confusion. Izaya arched backwards and let out a thunderous, almost evil, laugh.

"Believe me, Yu-chan, my standards are higher." He grinned enigmatically. Ryu felt a bit disturbed, which evoked another laugh on the feminine-looking man's part.

"Anyways I'll let you return to your little errands. Say hello to Dai-chan for me~" the man in a fur hoodie said as he sauntered off without care. The Urawa native's frown deepened and he mentally reached for the brain bleach.

The location was close, in a series of tenants away from the shops that seemed to be the centerpiece of the area. He came to one of the buildings, a cramped-looking three story, and pushed open the door. There was no reception desk…only a young boy, maybe 13 at most, sitting in a metal chair. He looked up at the teen.

"What do you want?" the "receptionist" asked.

"I'm looking for Kazutano-san; I have the lamp he ordered from Sabunari-san's shop." Ryu said, showing him the box. The young man looked at the runner, then the box.

"Second floor, eighth on the right." He directed.

Ryu ascended a flight of stairs just beyond the younger guy and was greeted by a narrow passage. The eighth room on the right had no apartment address as he'd guessed from the instructions. The young man knocked twice.

"Hey, Kazutano-san, I've got your lamp." He added.

A man in a red polo and khaki pants was behind the door. Heavy-set with a face that bore features he'd never seen on anyone here in Japan. He looked like the Italian conman in a crime film (not helped by the visible chest hair and gold chain). His accent only added insult to injury.

"Ah, you have ah, my lamp?" He said in Japanese that sounded like it was from a cheap translation guide for tourists.

"Yeah, or whatever the hell it is because it doesn't feel like a lamp." the young man said as he held out the object. It seemed like that made the man's day, and the next three after that.

"Oh, wonderful! Thank you, thank you!" he exclaimed, throwing his arms out as if he'd hug the smuggler. Ryu backed up just a little and gave a nervous chuckle.

"You're welcome, but it's just a lamp." he insisted.

"Yes but now Saburo-san will be happy!" he explained. Ryu finally decided to ask.

"Are you…Italian?" He asked. "Kazutano" looked slightly unnerved.

"No no, I'm a Japanese, just like you!" He insisted.

"Yeah, sure, anyways don't forget to call Sabunari-san so he knows you got your stuff." He said as he turned around to leave…

Ryu's appointment was at a small gun store, that like most of the small, mom-n-pop establishments (it seemed), was tucked in a small corner of the area. The store itself was big, though. The young man walked past a row of weapons, hunting rifles and shotguns on one side, accessories and even pellet guns on the other. When he reached the front he looked down to see a variety of handguns and ammo. He still felt he knew very little about the things, even after his studies. He stopped and looked down at the one-hand weapons for a minute. His senses picked up another person nearby and he looked up to see a man behind the counter, with long, unruly hair and a slightly overweight build; he almost looked like a Japanese Weird Al Yankovic, especially with the open Hawaiian shirt and dirty white tee under that. He looked Ryu over a minute.

"Sabunari-san sent you here?" He asked. The young man nodded.

He beckoned the new smuggler to the back, where his boss/mentor was also waiting. Ryu looked around and quickly gathered it was a shooting range. Daisuke, wearing safety glasses and earmuffs along with his polo shirt and chinos, took out his handgun.

"So Itogara-san, have we learned anything?" he asked. Ryu nodded.

"Yes, I've been studying those things like religious texts." He assured.

"The man can be taught." His employer said, giving him a short round of applause after setting down his 226. Ryu played along and gave a bow.

"So what kind of weapon will I get to fire?" he asked, keeping the small edge of excitement out of his voice. Firearms had shown themselves to be surprisingly interesting.

"You read about the Glock, right? You should know the answer." The store owner spoke up.

He held out a dull-black, 3rd Generation Glock 18 handgun before the teen. Ryu accepted the weapon and held it in his hand. It was much heavier than the dart gun he'd embarrassed himself with. He noted a small, block cylinder under the barrel, just before the trigger guard. He'd read enough in the past few days to understand it wasn't part of the actual weapon.

"That's a laser sight. You're new to firearms, so a little handicap won't hurt." The store owner explained.

"Okay, now watch me." Daisuke chimed in as he cocked back the slide on his SiG and declared the range was hot.

The brunette waited as a paper target silhouette was carried down range. The store owner, who introduced himself as Teiji-san as he gave Ryu a pair of muffs and glasses, took back the gun and set it down so the runner wouldn't be distracted. Daisuke, weapon again in hand, took a combat stance as the target stopped, spread his feet apart just enough to keep his balance, and cupped his left hand around his right to keep the gun steady. He braced his chin against his upper arm and closed his left eye, all of this in fluid, almost innate, motions. With the target's torso centered in his sights he squeezed off a round. Even with the ear protection Ryu couldn't help but flinch just a little. Deal with the recoil, realign your sights, and pull the trigger.

Ryu watched as his employer emptied the magazine with a calm demeanor. He studied how the man did it. When the last round left the chamber, his employer lowered the weapon, feet unmoving, and looked over at the young man.

"That's how it's done in a basic sense, none of that jumping and shooting stuff. Stand firm and take aim when behind cover." He reminded the guitarist.

"The recoil is pretty little." Ryu agreed.

"Yup, now it's your turn." Daisuke said as he relaxed and thumbed the safety back on.

"I get to shoot today?"

"Maybe, first you need to learn how to care for and hold the thing."

"That should be easy, right? I mean I still have that book."

"There's a difference between seeing a Glock in pieces and actually taking it apart."

Before anything else, Ryu was told about the kind of ammo he'd be using: hollow-point 9x19mm Parabellum. In Daisuke's opinion, it was better suited for the city. There was less risk of the bullet going through your target and hitting someone else, and was good for disabling your target if you wanted them alive. It was as powerful, but in Daisuke's experience he'd never faced anyone armed with anything more powerful than a bolt-action rifle.

Ryu got a lesson from Teiji on how to disassemble (field strip) the weapon for basic cleaning. If anything went really wrong, it could be brought to the pudgy man for fixing. The slide came off the receiver, and from there the barrel and recoil mechanisms could be accessed. According to the Weird Al lookalike, the Glock was a very durable weapon. Apparently the British Army had left the 18's brother, the Glock 17, in seawater for a week and it still fired like it had just been produced.

"So what made you want to work for ol' Sabunari-san?" the weapons seller asked when the subject of his sentence had left the room. The black-haired teen answered without looking away from his unassembled weapon.

"He offered the job to me, and the excitement has it's temptations. In all honesty I want to be a rock musician, and while I wait for that I was stuck delivering Sushi for just enough to keep my ass alive. I mean he came outta nowhere, bailed me out of a fight and offered some good money. Plus, I find it hard to see how this is illegal…"

"I don't judge, Itogara-san, we all gotta make a living. But a musician, huh?" he said, impressed.

"Yeah, but we haven't gotten our break yet. Apparently people think music that sounds like it's from the 1980s should stay there." The guitarist shrugged.

"The 80s? You guys do the same stuff as Loudness and all those guys?"

Ryu couldn't help but be a little proud after that.

"Yup." He admitted as he cleaned the removed barrel.

The young man carefully reinserted the recoil mechanism and barrel before reattaching the slide and giving the unloaded weapon a yank of the slide to cock it. He kept it pointed away and tapped laser's the on button with his right index finger (also known as his "trigger finger" as he'd learned). A pull of the trigger and it clicked like it was supposed to. Teiji was satisfied.

"Wanna fire a magazine?" he offered.

"Hell yeah I do!" Ryu almost immediately answered.

The businessman seemed pleased by his eagerness to fire. He left to retrieve the ammo while Daisuke returned.

"What do you think of the Glock?" He asked.

"Comes apart pretty easily." Ryu replied, still smiling.

"Teiji-san said he'd let me empty a magazine." The young man added.

"Good, because you'll be doing this kind of stuff until you can get it down, when you aren't pulling jobs that is." He explained.

Ryu nodded willingly and the store's owner brought back a small box of 9mm hollow points. Ryu brought his gun to the range and set it down. His Glock carried 17 rounds, pretty generous for a pistol, he thought. Now it was his boss's turn to educate as they donned the safety gear once again and sent a paper target down to the end of the space.

"Okay, remember my stance?" He said. The young man nodded and looked down at his feet to spread them apart a bit.

He turned on the laser sight, shoved in a full magazine and chambered a round before raising the weapon to aim. Once the paper target had settled into place, Ryu used the iron sights and the red dot on the silhouette.

"Also, squeeze the trigger with top of your finger." The brunette added. The correction was made quickly.

Daisuke backed up and let his employee take it from there. Ryu centered up a shot again and gulped. With a bit of hesitancy he yanked back the trigger in a flinchy manner. He lowered it and readjusted his stance to what he felt was a more stable one, before looking up at the results of his first shot. He'd aimed for the target on the chest, but had ended up putting the bullet in the neck area.

"Don't get so flinchy like that, or else your shots are gonna go wild." Daisuke said.

"How do I do that?" Ryu asked.

"The weapon recoils AFTER the bullet is flying, so just learn to pull the trigger smoothly and if your sights are lined up, you'll hit where you want. Re-aim fast but don't get ahead of yourself, just like I taught you with the NERF guns." The older man answered.

Ryu looked back down the sights and pulled the trigger again, using the magazine to get comfortable with recoil and how to hold his weapon comfortably but effectively. As he grew initially accustomed to it, he could see some of the beautiful things the Glock 18 had to offer, mainly its lack of real recoil once e forced himself to stop flinching so much.

"So when do I get to carry this?" the guitarist asked as he surrendered it.

"It's gonna take some time, paperwork n all that stuff, plus, you weren't exactly a crack shot today." Teiji said truthfully. Ryu hid his disdain for the statement, and just nodded.

"Tomorrow we'll do the same thing, and maybe if you're lucky you'll get to try your hand at a few more weapons." The store owner added.

The two smugglers left, and Ryu's mind was again brought back to the job and his acceptance of it. He looked at the brunette.

"Hey, Sabunari-san…" Ryu asked.

"What's up?" The employer shot back.

"I was wondering…how do you do this without wondering about it being, you know, illegal?" Itogara asked.

There was a moment of dense silence, and Daisuke Sabunari gave the question a bit of deep thought. His answer didn't seem to really indicate that, though.

"Oh trust me, you'll feel it eventually. But soon, you learn not to care. You set boundaries and lines within, and it eases away the "Oh my gosh, everyone who breaks the law is a demon!" bullshit mainstream society seems to be dependent on."

"But I don't feel it right now." The teen insisted. Daisuke stopped and pulled a cigarette from a pack in his pocket.

"Because you're still naïve. No offense Ryu, but you haven't shown yourself to be very streetwise since we've met." He said bluntly as he clenched the stick between his lips.

"Hey, I'm getting better!" the dark-haired one protested.

"That's all fine n' dandy, Itogara-san, but until you prove it I'm not fully convinced you haven't fully grasped what you're doing." Daisuke replied, though he had no maliciousness in his words. Ryu went for what he thought would be his trump card.

"Then why did you offer me this chance if you thought I wasn't mature enough." He fired. Daisuke seemed to expect the move.

"Hey, I just made the offer, you chose to accept…" He shrugged before walking onwards. He turned and looked at the younger man, who seemed angry because he was confused, not insulted.

"…Look, Itogara-san, you're a good kid, but this is the real world. Just take it as a fair warning that you need to accept it or else when your eyes open up, it's gonna hurt like hell. I can see it in you; you think it's some adventure. If you want to make it big, you need to be serious."

Daisuke said his goodbye and walked off without his employee, leaving the young man to contemplate things. For the first time, Ryu felt disdain for the man. He held out the position and offered to train the non-local for it, and now he was telling Ryu he wasn't fit for it? What kind of ass-backwards logic did this guy possess? He wanted to demand some clarification here, but strangely Daisuke's one point about him had already festered enough in his mind. He WAS naïve, and occasionally (okay maybe a bit more than that) he. He'd been the card-board cutout awkward virgin around Natsuyo, and he'd tried to act like he was an action star in what was supposed to be a realistic gunfight.

Just then his phone rang. Ryu stowed the thought and pulled out the device. It was Kouta…

"Hello?" Ryu said, slapping on a calm tone as fast as he could.

"Hey, Itogara-san! I haven't heard from you in quite a few days!" his bespectacled friend said with powerful enthusiasm.

"Yeah, sorry man, been busy with things." The fellow musician apologized.

"Well clear your schedule, tonight we're hanging out!"

"Jeez Nakumura-san, you didn't even ask me what I was doing tonight."

"Doesn't matter man, it's been too long. Get your ass over to my place. We're gonna tear up the town."


End file.
